


Pocket

by silentdescant



Series: Promptember [7]
Category: Pentatonix, Superfruit
Genre: Gen, Implied Relationships, M/M, Nostalgia, SePTXCC17
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 06:58:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12030600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentdescant/pseuds/silentdescant
Summary: A trip down memory lane





	Pocket

It’s been a long time coming, but that doesn’t make it any easier to say goodbye to this house once and for all. Mitch had kind of thought his parents would never leave it. He kind of thought this day would never come. But it has, and he’s known about it for months, and he’s still about to break down and cry just from sitting in his childhood bedroom for the last time.

It’s stupid, really. Mitch has moved apartments and houses multiple times, and it’s always been for the best. It’s always an exciting, happy thing. An upgrade. His parents’ new house is an upgrade for them, too, but the new house won’t have any of Mitch’s memories attached to it. It won’t have any of his history. It’ll be his _parents’_ house, not his family house. It’s just… strange. And sad. But mostly strange.

There are still a few boxes of his old clothes and knickknacks in the closet. Folders and notebooks full of old school work. Scripts and sheet music from plays. His parents should’ve gotten rid of this stuff years ago, but they kept it for him. They can’t keep it anymore. There’s just no room in the new place. He has to go through it himself.

He hauls a stack of papers to the bed and sits down to rifle through them. Each page is laden with memories, but the papers themselves are meaningless. Old notes and scripts he’ll never need. He quickly decides to toss them all out.

A box of clothes is next, and Mitch thinks this should be easier. Surely there’s nothing in here that he would still wear. He can’t even remember loving any of his old clothes. They were just… things to cover his body, jackets to hide in, t-shirts bought from Goodwill, jeans that never fit him well in the first place. He pulls out a hoodie emblazoned with the Martin High Warriors mascot. Maybe he should keep this one for the sake of posterity.

He folds the sweatshirt over his arm, intending to put it aside, and hears a faint crinkle from the pocket. Mitch fishes around and finally pulls out a crumpled piece of notebook paper. It’s a page of notes in Scott’s hurried handwriting, written in pen with several lines scratched out.

It’s their arrangement for Bad Romance, the version Scott put on youtube the morning after they performed it for the first and only time. Mitch smiles at the memory.

He’s not sure why he never threw out the page, but he vividly remembers hunkering down over a table in the back of the choir room, discussing the verses to the song. He remembers the manic pace of Scott’s pen across the paper. He remembers Scott beaming with excitement as they planned and plotted and arranged.

The note brings back other memories, too. Their brief few hours of practicing in between snacks and the distraction of Scott’s sisters. The nervous energy that threatened to eat Mitch from the inside out as they set up their equipment in the Barnes & Noble. The rush of playing to a crowd that wasn’t just made up of parents and siblings of his cast- and choir-mates, even though that crowd was only a handful of people.

It was the start of their lives, Mitch thinks. Sure, other moments were important, maybe even more important overall, but this song, this arrangement, this taste of working as a pair… It’s something Mitch can’t allow himself to forget.

 

 _fin_.


End file.
